To Fall
by Ghurlag
Summary: A short story i was writing as a last-minute entry for a Black Library Forums workshop. I had half an hour to go until submissions closed and i was 400 words over limit, so i decided 'why not' and posted it here instead. Enjoy.


To Fall

It is an interesting expression, 'to fall'. It can be a description of a simple everyday event, resulting in a mild scrape or bruise, and perhaps a chuckle or two from those around you. You stumble to your feet, embarrassed and eager to dismiss the event.

Sometimes it's a serious thing - a broken ankle, a cracked head. Under those circumstances, a fall is something people talk of with sympathy, tutting and giving you that pitying look, all the while secretly glad it was you and not them who found that gap or missed that step. You nurse yourself back from those falls slowly but surely.

And then there is that other kind of fall. The kind only mentioned in hushed tones, because to even mention it was to invite the darkness closer. The kind of fall where men lost their faith, lost their lives and lost their souls to the Dark Gods. It was dangerous to even speak of such events, not least because there were always those who might wonder if your words were betraying a personal moral stumble.

Anthim had always found that last use of the term intriguing. To fall from grace. It implied that somehow you were standing at some great moral height, from which you could tumble into some unplumbed depths and drown. He didn't fear such an event, himself, because he had never experienced these heights.

On the moral scale, Anthim fancied himself a water-skimming beetle of some sort - not damned, as such, but so close to damnation that he could dip his toes in it as he skipped merrily across its surface. And yet never in danger of being submerged. He was so near-damned that he was beyond damnation. Falling to Chaos was something only a being higher up the scale could achieve.

He tugged on the chain linking him to his ward. Take the lad, for example. Whatever other flaws he had, the lad was as young and innocent as he was old and weathered. Such innocence was a prime target for corruption. The Dark Powers loved a challenge. Anthim, however was no challenge whatsoever - his soul wouldn't even register in their dark games. He might not be well-respected, by gods or men, but he was safe.

Not_ normally_ well-respected, he corrected himself as he directed his charge along the familiar winding path. They spat on him or ignored him usually, oh yes - they had an inkling of who he was and what he did, and they were disgusted. They shunned him and mocked him and ever wondered if something should be done about him. Until they needed him. Until the midwife refused to keep quiet any longer, or the secret shame in the cellar was tearing a family apart. Then they came to him, and they were most respectful. They bargained with him, _begged him, _even. They would offer him a price, to keep it all quiet. And then Anthim took care of their little problem.

With this one, the mother had asked. Sometimes they asked, sometimes they didn't want to know. If they did, it was usually the mother. It was a simple question, and one Anthim still found touching, even after many years of hearing it, in all its many forms.

"You're not going to... _kill_ him, are you?"

And he reassured them that he wouldn't, no, really. Wails usually followed, which puzzled him. Much about that part of his little jobs was confusing. Probably because it involved distressed people who had yet to really make their minds up about what they wanted. People were alien enough to him anyway. This part, the walk, he was more comfortable with. Especially with a nice quiet ward like the lad. He'd had wailers and ragers, and more than one of his charges had been too large and too dangerous for his liking, requiring the hasty construction of a cage or crate, and the father and friends to accompany him in a sombre parade.

But this lad was a quiet one, hadn't even put up much of a fight when he'd been shackled and taken away from the shed where he'd been living. He just trudged along quietly, staring at the tentacle-like hands that had caused all this trouble for him. Most would say that the kid's body was impure because his soul was impure, but Anthim had seen enough in his time to know that this was so much rubbish. The only reason most of them turned bad was because they were treated bad. Same for any man. Anthim might have pitied the lad if he thought about it long enough, but he knew to avoid such troubles for his heart. Things were as they were. He had a duty to see to.

His leg twinged and he winced. He was getting old. Used to be he could pick up a troublesome or noisy charge and dash the winding, dark path, when needed. Doubted he could do it now. Still, nearly there, anyway.

They turned for the last time. The dark path ended here. He noticed a bone lying in the grass nearby. How'd that get there? He'd have to clear that up after. Could spook some charges, that could. Oh well. Time to deal with the lad.

"All right" he told the lad gently "I'm gonna take off most of your chains, now, and then i'm gonna lower you down"

He moved towards the child as he talked, pointing at the cliff-edge.

"You'll be past the rocks when I let you go, so you won't get hurt, but you won't be able to get back up, neither. That gorge don't let out anywhere"

He gently unclasped the shackles, leaving the main harness attached. Some kids he had had to leave the shackles on while he lowered them. Some kids he had found too much trouble, he had just tossed on the rocks and had done with. Promises from a man like him were no promises at all. Parents never knew the difference anyway. Rare that they spoke to him afterwards.

He could hear rustling down in the gorge below. They knew he was here. They listened for the sound of him. He came up every week or so to chuck some food down. Not enough food, by any means. By his reckoning, there were about fifteen of them currently alive down there. He fed 'em a haunch of low-grade meat. Used to be that he'd try to feed them enough, when he was young, and cared, but it got to too much of an effort. They ate each other anyway. At least, the big ones ate the others. So he just chucked them what he could and let them get on with it. Past the rocks was none of his business.

He hustled the boy over to the edge of the cliff, keeping a tight grip on the chain connecting him to the harness on the boy's back.

"Nngh" said the boy-creature, showing some discomfort at being so close to the edge.

"Don't worry, lad" he muttered. Should've brought some meat to distract the big 'uns. Once this boy hit the ground, he was going to get torn apart. Oh well. Fate is fate.

Suddenly the boy turned and grabbed at his legs. He sighed and began pulling at the chain. He'd had to deal with last-minute bolters before. Nothing for it but to shake them loose, maybe stun 'em a bit. Good grip on this one, though. If he got much older he wasn't -

...He slipped. Simple as that. Slipped on something, right by the edge. Damn fool for standing so close. He had a few seconds to process things as he tumbled off the cliff, the lad, screaming, in tow. At this range, for a tumble, he'd hit the rocks and hopefully dash his brains out. Hopefully because when he hit the ground, he had a good idea what would come next. The lot of them would gather around him. Some, those with a bit of human left, might be out for revenge, but most would just be there for the meal. He'd be eaten. Alive or dead when he hit the ground, he'd be dead soon enough after. And people wouldn't even come looking. Wouldn't even wonder. Hah.

Time was passing slowly, allowing him a few last reflections on his life before it ended. Hah. A last joke. Turns out even one as lowly as he could still fall from great heights. And down there, past the looming rocks, was damnation and Chaos, in its purest form, eager to claim him.

Bloody world...

--- Author's Note --

This is shorter stuff than I usually write because it was originally written as a last-minute submission for a Black Library short story workshop. I wrote at a furious pace and got it finished in time, but with half an hour to go, i realised i was 400 words over the limit. Some leniency is allowed, but i felt that as a new forum member submitting 1.5 times the required length was pushing it a little. Rather than do a hack-and-slash job and drop a shoddy entry in, i decided to tweak it a little and then post it here. I'm not completely happy with it, but i think there's some potential in there. But that's for you to decide, not me. Drop a review and tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading.


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